Are you kidding me? Seriously my eyes are 50% of what they used to be and my small motor skills, as in typing, are a joke to behold. To put it mildly it’s a bit of a challenge to be a writer / photographer these days, a magical mystery tour if you will. I’ve actually lost count of the number of little mini strokes that I have had; each one seems like another shot across the bow carrying information that I don’t understand so I continue to do what there is to do in front of me. I take the meds, I go to the docs, I have the conversations and then later as the end of day closes in I tell myself that the stuff going on in my mind is the same silly stuff that’s been going on for years. The fantasies where I am the hero of my own daydream. Somehow I will overcome all of the attacks by people as yet unknown and entirely made up. What’s been left out are the stories where I die a heroic death doing something noble for mankind because that’s a little too close to the bone. I need to remind myself on a regular basis to pay attention to what’s right in front of me and that fantasy, while it is a working tool for the writing I do and the pictures I take, is a very dangerous place for me to go alone.
I have marked progress by my ability to go to bed without worrying about waking up; it’s lately that I’ve been doing that pretty regularly. The damage to my back is slowly healing and while I have canceled all of my shooting assignments, I still pick up my camera every day to take a picture. I like to shoot in black and white because that’s how I see the world these days … in black and white and shades of gray. The picture above is a sunset. I like it. I like the split focus to the right hand of the frame. Nothing that I do in my work is easy any longer. It all requires my paying attention to the smallest detail of the work process and it requires that I have patience with my constant mistakes.
Typing is complex for me. I am dictating this piece and I hope it works. I need to be patient with myself and a universe that is more random than I ever knew. Generally, all I can do is stay steady and be aware of the kindness and compassion of my friends. I think of this piece as a Tarmac Meditation. I am still on the road, still doing what I set out to do. In the old hippie phrase, I’m keepin’ on keepin’ on. What else is there to do?
Photo by Michael Lebowitz – All Rights Reserved